


Sleep Soundly

by timehopper



Series: Sleep Soundly [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Creampie, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: Claude wakes up in the middle of the night. Sylvain proves to be insatiable, even in sleep.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Series: Sleep Soundly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118021
Comments: 12
Kudos: 143





	Sleep Soundly

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY KINKTOBER EVERYBODY!! I'm a little late starting with it this year but we're kicking off with some real fun claudevain somnophilia for Day 8. Huge thank you to omo for the suggestion!! 
> 
> Please mind the tags! Claude and Sylvain are in an established relationship, yes, but there is no mention of any previous negotiation of this kink -- hence the "Dubious Consent" tag. If that's something you're not comfortable with, I suggest you hit that back button. Otherwise, please proceed with that warning in mind!
> 
> Also, there's now some [amazing art](https://twitter.com/justonevice/status/1326059435421265920?s=19) to go with this fic! Thank you so much to Cosu for drawing it! <3

When Claude wakes up in the middle of the night, it’s not to a nightmare, but to movement. A body shifting in his arms where there never used to be one, a hand slipping beneath a pillow.

It’s late. Claude can tell that much even without looking. A cool late-spring breeze floats in through the open window, brushing over his skin and making him shiver. Instinctively, he moves closer to the body next to him, huddling for warmth against it.

He opens his eyes to find that Sylvain has rolled over in his sleep. He’s flat on his stomach now, sprawled out with one arm supporting his head under the pillow and the other spread out to the side. He’s exposed from the waist up (except where one knee pokes out from under the corner of the sheets), having apparently thrown the rest of the covers off himself as he’d slept. Or maybe Claude had stolen them. It’s hard to say – Sylvain has always preferred the cold, and Claude the heat.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Sylvain is clearly very comfortable, fast asleep as he is. There’s no crease to his brow, no carefully-crafted smile on his face. Just closed eyes, a half-open mouth, and slow, steady breaths.

He’s beautiful like this, Claude thinks. Peaceful and relaxed.

It’s taken them a long time to get to this point. When they had first started sharing a bed, neither of them had slept much: Sylvain haunted by nightmares, Claude by memories of assassins moving in the night. He had stirred and woken with all of Sylvain’s nightmares back then, had held him close until Sylvain would either wake up or settle. Or, sometimes, it had been Sylvain to wake up first, to soothe Claude back to sleep and remind him that he was safe, that no harm would befall him while Sylvain was there.

Even so, they’d held hands over a dagger beneath their pillow more nights than they could count.

Now, however, that dagger is tucked away in a bedside drawer. They don’t need it anymore: Sylvain sleeps soundly – heavily – his dreams devoid of nightmares, and Claude no longer wakes at the slightest movement.

Except for tonight, apparently.

He sits up, careful not to wake Sylvain. Claude reaches out to caress his face; Sylvain shifts, almost leaning into the touch, and Claude pushes a lock of hair behind his ear to better see his smile.

Something tightens in Claude’s chest at the sight, fluttering and spreading through his body. It steals the breath from his lungs, makes him feel helpless to do anything but lean down to press a light, lingering kiss to Sylvain’s cheek.

But he doesn’t stop there.

Overwhelmed with emotion and unable to help himself, Claude trails kisses along Sylvain’s jaw and down his neck. He moves past Sylvain’s shoulders, over to his back, and pauses there for just a moment – just long enough to admire the marks that still linger on Sylvain’s skin, thin and red where Claude had scratched them into him. They’re less angry now, having faded with time, but they’re no less beautiful for it. _He’s_ no less beautiful for them.

Claude touches one above Sylvain’s shoulder blade, so faint it’s nearly gone. He traces it with the pad of his index finger, paying careful attention to the way Sylvain’s breath hitches and evens back out.

Still asleep.

When he reaches the end of that line, Claude moves on to another and repeats the motion. He lowers himself back down over Sylvain to follow the path of his hand with his lips, dragging kiss after kiss over each of the scratches, down and down and down, until there’s nothing left to kiss – until he reaches the point where Sylvain is hidden behind a thin silken sheet.

He takes that sheet and pulls it away, admiring the way it moves, sliding over Sylvain like water sloughing off his back. More than that, though, Claude admires the entirety of Sylvain's body, lit only by the moon and stars filtering in through the window. Like this, every ridge of muscle, every smooth expanse of Sylvain’s body is accentuated. Claude shivers, not from the breeze, but from the desire to touch, to re-map every inch of skin over and over again with lips and teeth and tongue.

And so he does. Claude continues his descent down Sylvain’s body, pressing kisses to his spine. All it earns him is a quiet sigh, breathy and relaxed, airy enough to signify that Sylvain is still asleep. Taking that as encouragement, Claude continues on.

He pulls back when he reaches the end of Sylvain’s tailbone, and takes moment to just… look. Sylvain squirms and makes a little noise in the back of his throat – a whine, perhaps? Claude can’t quite tell, but it does make him laugh.

“You’re insatiable even when you’re asleep, huh?” He shakes his head. It’s cute, though. Charming. Just one of the many reasons he’d fallen for Sylvain.

So Claude gives him what he knows his waking self would want. He moves his hand over the curve of Sylvain’s ass and presses the pad of his thumb to his rim. Sylvain twitches in his sleep and shifts back as if asking for more. As if giving Claude his unconscious permission.

And, well, who is Claude to refuse him?

He dips his thumb inside, groaning at how easily it goes. Sylvain is still loose from earlier, still nice and stretched out from how well he’d ridden Claude’s cock only a scant few hours ago.

Claude shudders. Even with nothing to ease the slide, Sylvain takes him like he was made for it.

Arousal had been creeping up on Claude from the moment he’d woken up, but now he’s completely there, cock hard and twitching with interest. He pulls his hand back, trying to stop himself before he goes too far, but when Sylvain whines again, like he _misses_ having something inside him, all of Claude’s carefully-crafted restraint falls apart.

He sucks two fingers into his mouth, carefully wets them, and presses them to Sylvain’s hole. They go in easy, so easy, and all the reaction Claude gets is a throaty, sleep-thick groan and a twitch in Sylvain’s brow.

Claude halts a moment. He waits for any signs of Sylvain actually waking up – but no. He slumbers on, oblivious and relaxed as ever. Even when Claude pushes deeper and spreads his fingers to stretch him further, Sylvain does not stir.

Claude shifts so he can use his free hand to stroke himself. He starts slow, moving in time with his fingers thrusting in and out of Sylvain, speeding up only when Sylvain starts to rock back against him. He bites back a moan, tries to swallow the little grunts and noises that threaten to spill from him. It’s too much, trying to hold back for Sylvain’s sake, but Claude does, pumping himself only until he’s brought right to the edge and stopping before he makes a mess of his hand.

He pulls out of Sylvain and twists around to grab the bottle of oil and the cloth they’d left on the nightstand. Thankfully, they’re within arms’ reach – Claude doesn’t particularly want to pull away from Sylvain and the heat radiating from his skin, nor does he want Sylvain to wake up from the sudden loss of contact.

Sylvain deserves his rest, after all. He’d worked so hard today. He works hard every day, trying to do what none of his predecessors had dared.

And that, more than anything else, is why Claude had fallen for him. Sylvain choosing to rebel against the fate his blood had laid out for him, deciding to put an end to the endless fighting between his people and those of Sreng… it’s the same goal that had given Claude hope at his lowest moments. To be by Sylvain’s side now, the two of them working toward making that dream a reality…

Claude doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

He smiles down at Sylvain, leaning forward and pressing another kiss to his temple, so soft and light it’s more like a brush of the lips than a proper kiss. Claude whispers his love to Sylvain, hoping he hears it in his dreams.

Claude lifts himself away to slick himself up, drizzling oil onto his palm and spreading it over his cock. He smears some of the excess around Sylvain’s hole (though it’s probably unnecessary by this point) and wipes the rest off with the cloth. When he’s done, he braces himself on one hand and uses the other so spread Sylvain open.

And then he slides in, slow and smooth and easy. Claude bites his lip to keep quiet, but once he’s fully sheathed inside Sylvain, he lets out a shaky exhale, opening his eyes to make sure Sylvain is still asleep. He is, and he’s hardly moved at all; the only difference is that now his skin is flushed, pretty and dark even in the pale light of the moon.

It takes a few seconds for Claude to adjust and find a position that works – braced on his elbows and slotted between Sylvain’s spread legs – but when he’s ready, he moves, rocking his hips in steady, even motions. Sylvain doesn’t quite move with him, but he’s not exactly still, either: he squirms a little, arches against Claude, grips at the sheets and moans breathily.

Claude lets a noise of his own slip as Sylvain twitches and clenches around him. He snaps his mouth shut and grits his teeth to try and keep any more sound from escaping him – he doesn’t want to wake Sylvain, after all. But that doesn’t stop him from moving, nor does it make him slow his pace. With every few thrusts, Claude starts to go faster, harder, spurred on by how loose and relaxed Sylvain is.

He fucks into Sylvain’s unconscious body, fists clenching in the sheets as he starts to get close. Claude hisses through his teeth and shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight as he fast approaches his orgasm. The closer he gets, the harder it is to maintain control, and in a moment of weakness, Claude lets slip a sharp hiss of Sylvain’s name.

And Sylvain moves.

“Mmh… Claude…?”

Claude freezes.

Sylvain shifts and tries to roll onto his side. In doing so, he unwittingly squeezes around Claude’s cock still buried deep inside him. Claude bites his lip to keep himself from making any noise, but the sharp intake of breath he’s forced to take betrays him.

Sylvain’s brow furrows. “You okay…?” he asks, voice thick and words slurred. He sounds so good like this, sleepy and unaware. _Looks_ so good like this, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, as if he hasn’t really woken up at all. Claude isn’t even sure he has, and he’s almost certain that even if Sylvain is properly awake, he hasn’t noticed that Claude is balls-deep inside him.

And oh, is that a thought.

“I’m fine,” Claude says, careful to keep his voice steady. “Everything’s fine, Sylvain. I’m just a bit restless tonight; no need to worry.”

Sylvain hums. “Liar,” he says, the word drawn-out and muddied by a yawn, but he doesn’t put up a fight. Instead, he settles in against the pillows and closes his eyes. “Was having a good dream…”

Claude laughs. “I bet you were,” he around a smile. “If you go back to sleep, maybe it’ll pick up where you left off.”

“Mm… Yeah. That’d be nice.” Sylvain grins, toothy and lopsided. Claude leans over and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He tries to return it, but uncoordinated and slow from how sleepy he is, Sylvain misses.

Claude shakes his head, fond. “Good night, Sylvain.”

“G’night…”

He reaches behind himself and pulls Claude’s arm to wrap around his torso. Claude takes a deep breath and counts down from ten, trying desperately not to focus on how Sylvain presses his hand to his chest, on how good it feels or how perfectly Sylvain’s pec fits in his hand.

Resisting the urge to squeeze and knead Sylvain’s chest is one of the hardest things Claude has ever done.

It takes an agonizingly long time for Sylvain’s breathing to even out again and for his body to relax. Only when Claude is certain he’s fallen back asleep does he start to move inside Sylvain again, working up to his previous pace with slow rolls of his hips.

He slips his hand out from under Sylvain’s and snakes it down his torso, brushing over the trail of hair that leads to his cock. Claude wraps his fingers around the base and starts to stroke, pleased to find that Sylvain is already hard and leaking.

Seems he really had been having a good dream, after all.

Claude swipes his thumb over the head of Sylvain’s cock, catching a drop of precum and smearing it over the slit. Sylvain’s breath hitches and he rocks forward into Claude’s hand, unconsciously seeking more friction. Claude happily gives it to him, tightening his grip and stroking him faster, faster, until Sylvain starts to writhe and tense against him.

“That’s it,” Claude whispers, knowing full well that Sylvain can’t hear him. If he hasn’t woken up by now, with how hard Claude is fucking him and jerking him off, then he won’t anytime soon.

And he doesn’t, even when he comes. Sylvain’s body tightens around Claude without warning, and he comes barely a moment later, spilling silently into Claude’s hand and staining the sheets with what Claude can’t catch.

It catches Claude off-guard. Normally when Sylvain comes, he’s loud. If he’s not speaking, he’s making some kind of noise, vocalizing his pleasure to make sure Claude – and sometimes, any errant eavesdroppers – are aware of how good he feels. This time, however, there’s nothing. No gasp, no moan, no broken, choked-off grunt. It’s strange, it’s different, and it’s – it’s too much for Claude, especially when he realizes that the only reason Sylvain hasn’t made any noise is because he _can’t_. He’s too deep asleep to realize what’s happening to him.

And that’s the last push Claude needs to send him hurtling over the edge. He comes inside Sylvain with one last hard, erratic thrust and clings to him as he rides out each trembling wave of his orgasm, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out and waking Sylvain.

It takes what feels like ages for him to catch his breath. When he finally does, he slumps against Sylvain and presses his forehead to the divot between his shoulder blades. And for a moment, Claude just… lies there, letting himself enjoy the feeling of a strong, firm, warm body in his arms. He stays like that until discomfort starts to set in, and then at last Claude pulls out, cock soft and utterly spent.

He wipes his hand off on the sheets before remembering the cloth he’d grabbed earlier. Claude gropes around for it, and when he’s finally got it and cleaned his own hand off, he brings it to Sylvain’s cock to wipe up the last few drops of come that still cling to him.

And then he stops. Claude knows he should clean Sylvain properly, messy as he is, but when he looks down to see his come dripping from Sylvain’s hole… Claude changes his mind. He sets the cloth back on the night table, along with the discarded bottle of oil, and settles back against Sylvain, drawing him comfortably into his arms.

Sylvain will undoubtedly notice the mess in the morning, but that’s okay. That just means that Claude can tell him all about it.

And hopefully coax him into a repeat performance.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it, you can see Cosu's art of this fic [here](https://twitter.com/justonevice/status/1326059435421265920?s=19)!
> 
> For anyone who's interested, my list of kinktober prompts can be found [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1305986595904827392). I'm not doing every day, but I've at least got a few planned out!
> 
> If you enjoyed this and think you might like to see more, have a chat, or would like to get to know me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r).
> 
> And if you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1355219789560471554). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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